


Simulare

by Erevae



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/F, Future Fic, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-22 03:34:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11958843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erevae/pseuds/Erevae
Summary: Sound surrounded her ears. Voices melding together to create an encompassing background. She looked at all those around her. Cooks, tailors, smiths, armourers, farriers, farmers, and shepherds over by the horse lines and stockyards. Huntsman and Huntresses going to and from the camps on various assignments. But mostly there were soldiers. Thousands and thousands of soldiers.





	Simulare

Sound surrounded her ears. Voices melding together to create an encompassing background. She looked at all those around her. Cooks, tailors, smiths, armourers, farriers, farmers, and shepherds over by the horse lines and stockyards. Huntsman and Huntresses going to and from the camps on various assignments. But mostly there were soldiers. Thousands and thousands of soldiers.

 

Of course, soldiers are what you would expect when walking through an army camp, after all, this was the army. The United Defence Force of Remnant, or just UDF. 

 

As she made it further into the centre of the camp, the concentration of soldiers grew. Tents were pitched in neat rows, extending for hundreds of meters in all directions, pennants and flags flying from their stay ropes. Most were escaping the stifling heat of their tents, and were outside, sitting in groups playing cards or talking. A few groups were wrestling or sparring. A band of children ran between the tents, laughing and yelling as they played an imaginary game, attracting the attention and chuckles of those nearby. 

 

All the colours were mixed. She remembered when they weren't. Back when this war started, when the four kingdoms refused to even camp together. Now, three years on, it was like they were one army, one kingdom, with four uniforms. 

 

'No, five. Five uniforms.' She corrected herself mentally. 

 

She allowed herself a small smile as she pictured that day; she wasn't there when it happened, but she remembered reading the report. 

 

6 months into this bloody war, during the Second Battle of Mistral. The city had been fighting a losing battle for weeks. Mountain passes and other engagements were preventing and hampering reinforcements from reaching the battered and weary Mistralian defenders. The force left behind to protect the city was all but spent. The Grimm assault never ceased. They endlessly pounded away at the walls, every passing day claiming more soldiers. They were down to a tenth of the initial force, barely 200 men and women. Help had come from where they least expected it. Menagerie. The Faunus of Menagerie had come to Mistral's aid, beating the Grimm back, finding paths though mountains previously thought impassable. The news had shocked her as well as everyone else. Many didn't believe it. They believed it after 3 of the Faunus regiments had showed up at their base camp, battle scarred, but alive and kicking. 

 

Brown, gold, and red trim marked the Mistralian Dragoons. Russet brown and emerald green raiment marked the Rangers hailing from Vale. Atlesian Specialists and soldiers were clad in their iconic ice blue and white with accents of black. Vacuo stood out in bold blue and sun-baked sand with their gold trim. Lastly, the Faunus who made up the regiments from Menagerie were wearing old White Fang uniforms, from when the organisation was still peaceful, as a statement against the remaining White Fang Cells still aiding Salem. 

 

She came up to the command tent, a large, royal red colour, deep and bold. Prototype shielding technology from SDC's RnD department protected the heart of the camp, along with several Atlesian Paladin's and a rotating guard squad. One of the guards approached her, about to call for her identification, when he stopped, recognising her. With a salute, he stepped back into line. 

 

"Proceed in ma'am." 

 

She gave him a polite nod as she entered, pushing aside the flaps and suddenly getting buffeted by a blast of cool air. With the sun just shy of its zenith, the heat inside the tent should be sweltering. Her confusion disappeared a few moments later though, as her gaze fell on one of the occupants in the room. 

 

With her iconic family crest across the back of her clothes, a stylised white, ice blue, and black accented combat uniform, Weiss Schnee struck a commanding pose. Myrtenaster was belted at her side, the legendary rapier still in excellent condition. Her face was hard, her ice blue eyes staring at a strategic map of Remnant, analysing the war. 

 

She looked every bit the hero people knew her to be, with a weapon almost as famous as she was. But those who really knew her were always struck with sorrow when they took a closer look at Myrtenaster, for if one looked closely and long enough, one would notice the shining, silver emblem of a rose that adorned the belt the sword was thrust through.  

 

That emblem mattered more to Weiss than Myrtenaster did. 

 

Huntress Weiss Schnee looked over her shoulder, sensing someone watching her. The annoyed and threatening look in her eyes evaporated instantly when she saw who it was. 

 

"Oh, hello Blake." 

 

She turned and embraced her Faunus teammate warmly.

 

"It's good to see you." She said with a smile.

 

Blake smiled in return, "It's good to see you too Weiss."

 

 With a heavy sigh and a wan look in her eyes, Weiss turned back to face the map, the worry lines etched onto her face from the war seemed even more noticeable now.  

 

Grimm style pieces marking Salem and her forces, along with the red wolf symbol for the White Fang. Their own forces were marked out with a shield design, featuring the crest of each Kingdom. They were spread thin, with many strongholds, villages, and cities abandoned or lost in the war.

 

"It's not looking good."

 

Blake grunted in response, then shifted closer to Weiss, lowering her voice so others in the tent wouldn't hear the topic she was about to breach;

 

"How bad is it?"

 

Ice blue eyes locked to amber ones, a tiny note of resignation found behind the determination.

 

"We're losing."

 

Blake could hear the heaviness of Weiss's heart in those two words. 

 

With more intensity than she was meaning, Blake shot back, "I know we're losing!" She paused, taking a breath, a small amount of apology in her eyes when Weiss flinched from her tone, "I want to know if we've lost."

 

A silence stretched between them, almost tangible.

 

“I don’t know. I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t…” Weiss trailed off, taking a moment to reassert her control over her emotions and body, slowing her breathing. Blake watched this happen through concerned amber eyes, fully aware of how close everyone was to completely losing their minds from the stress of it all.

 

“Honestly?” Weiss began, “It could still go either way. They outnumber us 4 to 1 on the battlefield, but that’s only due to the Grimm. With the weapon advancements we’ve had over the years, we can begin to compensate for our smaller numbers. Can we beat them in an all-out fight? I’d say our chances are slim.”

 

The heiress’ tone grew professional, years of living under her father starting to shine through as her demeanour grew frosty. “Our main disadvantage is that they can produce Grimm faster than we can train soldiers. Eventually, they will overrun us and it will be a bloodba-, it will be ugly.”

 

Blake nodded along with her friend as she talked, taking in the information and hearing the implications below the positive spin. They were all screwed.

 

“On the other hand, if we have a breakthrough in weapons research or we take out Salem, then I suppose we win.”

 

Blake gave her a wry smile, “Easy then, let’s just get a Hunter team together and let’s all go hunt the most dangerous woman who has ever walked Remnant and who has a literal army of soulless monsters between us and her. Cake walk.”

 

Weiss glared at her, “Don’t you give me lip, Belladonna.” But Blake could see the smile behind her eyes, and the appreciation of the lightened mood. For the first time that night, Blake saw Weiss relax a little, her gaze growing melancholic, “I wish Ozpin was still alive. He’d know what to do.”

 

“I wish a lot of people were still alive.”

 

It was almost an instant reaction, sadness permeating the gap between them.

 

Weiss looked over at Blake, before gesturing to a table, “Sit with me, let’s just forget about this war for a little while.”

 

* * *

 

Being left to their own devices in the command tent had taken its toll; a dulling mix of exhaustion and alcohol indicated they should probably quit while they were ahead and get some sleep.

 

Blake gave Weiss a final nod, moving around the table and giving her a tight hug before stepping away, "I'm going to turn in for the night."

 

Weiss responded with a small smile, "I hope you sleep well..."

 

A soft chuckle disturbed the air between them, "I hope I do too. Are you-," Blake cut herself off as her mind caught up to her mouth, then, realising she was being silly; "Are you going to visit Ruby?"

 

"Oh..." Weiss looked a little shocked for a moment before her expression changed to one of deep-seated sorrow, "Yeah… I will visit, it has been a while."

 

The ravenette Faunus gave her friend a sympathetic look before heading for the exit of the tent, “Don’t drink much more, Weiss.”

 

Night had draped the world in its dark blanket when Blake emerged from the command tent. Fires and torches had been lit, the guard shift had changed, Blake noted the different uniforms. The guards that noticed her saluted, except one. He was wearing Vacuo colours, with a corporal's rank slides on his shoulder. He took a step towards her, placing a closed fist over his heart and bowing his head in respect. The action made Blake's throat tighten. Breathing suddenly became difficult and she could feel a pricking sensation behind her eyes. 

 

She didn't need to look to know what was underneath the guard's closed fist. The symbol of a burning heart. 

 

_‘Yang…’_

 

He was a surviving member of the 22nd UDF Reclamation Company, from the 3rd Battle of Vale. The only surviving company from that blood-soaked day. The company Yang saved. The company she gave her life for. 

 

They always did this when they saw her. Yang's love for her partner was almost as renowned as the Huntress had been herself. It was their way of paying respect... and their way of apologising for what had happened. 

 

'If it weren't for us, you would still have her.' They seemed to say. 

 

_‘It’s not your fault.’_

 

The darkness suddenly felt much closer.

 

_‘It’s mine.’_

 

* * *

“Yang?”

 

“Yang…”

 

“YANG!”

 

A dull thud sounded through the carpeted floorboards as one Yang Xiao Long woke up with a muffled shout and fell out of her bed to a rude, painful awakening. Lilac eyes glared at her door as her father’s voice continued speaking, “Get up young lady, we’re going to be late and you don’t want to miss breakfast!”

 

Yang heard her father walking away from her room without giving her a chance to respond. With a groan, she scrabbled on her bedside table for her phone, snatching up the device and checking the time.

 

9:37 am.

 

“Shit.”

 

Adrenaline flooding her, she pushed herself up off the ground and hurried to pull on clothes. She had to be at Dr Shaw’s office at 10:15, which gave her about thirteen minutes to dress, eat, and wash up before her dad hit the road. Her mad clothes gathering yielded her a pair of blue jeans and a yellow tank top. Shoving her feet into the closest shoes she could find, Yang bolted out her bedroom door.

 

Finishing her morning bathroom routine in a record time of five minutes, Yang sat down at the dinner table, breakfast having been served a half an hour ago. She leaned over and ruffled her sister’s hair, earning her a litany of mild complaining and groaning. Sunny smile and all, Yang took it in stride.

 

“Whatcha workin’ on, Rubes?”

 

Her sister, Ruby, was half eating what was left on her plate, half drawing something Yang couldn’t even comprehend. It looked to her like a mass of squiggles and lines. Receiving no response from her sister, Yang peered over to get a better look. It didn’t help.

 

“It… uhh…. It looks-.”

 

“It looks great.” A melodic voice cut in.

 

Ceramic sounded on wood as a plate of eggs, bacon, toast, and beans was set in front of her, the smell instantly capturing Yang’s attention. Summer Rose’s breakfast, in all its glory. The slight framed woman herself easily moved around the back of Yang’s chair. She tapped Yang on the shoulder softly, “Eat up, my darling, your father isn’t going to give you much leeway.”

 

Yang smiled back, “Thanks mum.”

 

“You’re welcome, sweetie.”

 

Now feeling warm inside, Yang wolfed her breakfast down, ignoring the growing feeling of nervousness. She wasn’t sure what to expect from Dr Shaw. Their first meeting had gone well enough, with lots and lots of questions. This meeting, there would be further questions, particularly when it was an hour-long session as opposed to the twenty-minute talk they had the week prior.

 

Yang wasn’t sure what answers Dr Shaw was looking for, but she hoped they wouldn’t be too hard to find.

 

Dropping her knife and fork on a now empty plate, she moved to take it up to the sink when her mother nimbly swiped the plate first.

 

“I’ve got this, honey. Go to your father, he’s waiting in the car.”

 

“Thanks, I love you!”

 

“I love you too.”

 

Yang burst out their front door, making a beeline for what could be called their driveway. They lived on Patch, an island off the coast of Vale, and her parents owned a fairly large home on quite a bit of land. It was a place Yang truly loved, a place she truly felt at home.

 

_‘Here, with my family.’_

 

The last two members of said family, both stuck their heads out the window of the family car. Taiyang Xiao Long, her father, and of whom she was a spitting image, and Zwei, their adorable corgi. “Come on my sunny little dragon, we’re going to be late!”

 

“Fine, alright!” She called with mock exasperation, “I’m coming!”

 

He shot back with a smile almost identical to hers and laughed as Yang jumped into the side seat. Wasting no time, Yang pulled out her phone, flipping through accumulated messages from her friends as she tried to ignore the growing ball of nerves. Lilac eyes flicked up to the top of her phone screen.

 

She was quickly interrupted by an indignant black and white corgi who clearly felt he wasn’t getting enough attention from the blonde. Yang put her phone away as Zwei manoeuvred himself into her lap for optimal patting range. A soft laugh escaped her as she watched Zwei do this.

 

_‘Ten minutes. We can make it in 10 minutes. Gaah I wish I wasn’t going… why is this hard all of a sudden?’_

 

The universe stubbornly refused to answer her question as the world outside the car windows flashed past her, the greens and browns forming a varying blur for her unfocused gaze. Her wandering thoughts chased each other around her head, moving in complicated loops or even simple straight lines.

 

Green and brown changed into grey and silver as they drove into Patch’s main street. It didn’t take Taiyang long to pull up out the front of Dr Shaw’s practice. The good doctor was technically a psychiatrist, but they offered general counselling services too. Services she was intended for.

 

Yang looked at the door handle, not wanting to actually get out. She felt someone nudge her shoulder, and looked over into deep blue eyes. “Go on kiddo, I’ll be here to pick ya up when you get out.”

 

Yang nodded, looking down at her lap and giving Zwei a final pat before lifting him and placing him on her father’s lap so she could get out. With a wan smile, she pushed open the door and stepped into the sun, her long golden locks seeming to catch fire in the light. She walked up to the glass doors, pushing them open and stepping inside.

 

A blast of cool air hit her, and a shiver shot through her before she could stop it. A receptionist looked up, slight smile on her face, “You’re just in time, Miss Xiao Long,”

 

_‘No I’m not.’_

 

“Just head through, he’s ready for you.”

 

Yang gave her traditional sunny smile, “Thank you.”

 

She headed down the hallway to the left side of the reception desk, the shadows in the corners seeming almost alive. Blaming it on her nerves, Yang walked up to the solid wood door and knocked twice before opening it.

 

Pale blue eyes immediately locked onto hers, “Ah, Miss Xiao Long. Please, have a seat.”

 

Yang regarded Dr Shaw. A silvered, receding, thin hairline, straight nosed and clean shaven. Hooded eyes with dark eyebrows and a gaze that seemed to pierce straight through her. His voice warm though, honeyed.

 

“Thank you, doctor.”

 

“Please, you can call me by my first name if you wish, but if that’s uncomfortable, then just Shaw will be perfectly fine.”

 

Thin lips stretched into a smile as Dr Shaw once again gestured for Yang to take a seat. Realising she had been awkwardly standing there did absolutely nothing to abate her nerves. With a flustered smile, she sat down in a dark grey chair opposite his.

 

The room was small, devoid of any plants or pictures. A shuttered window let a minuscule amount of light in, as well as a ceiling light, but overall, the room was unusually dark, as if the lights were dimmed.

 

“So Yang,” Dr Shaw began, “how I usually do this, is I’ll just take some notes while we talk so I can keep a record and review them in order to better help you. Please let me know if you’re uncomfortable with it.”

 

Yang quickly shook her head, “No, it’s fine, Shaw.”

 

He smiled again, that thin-lipped smile, “Excellent. Well Yang,” he leaned forward slightly, notepad and pen in hand, “Tell me, what’s been going on?”

 

Yang took a deep breath in an effort to still the butterflies in her stomach, suddenly wishing all the more that she wasn’t here. However, she could appreciate the fact that she was here to get help, hopefully some answers too. She closed her eyes, a flash of red, white, black, and yellow jumping into her mind before she opened them again.

 

“Well… I… I’ve been having these… dreams.”

 

A spark entered Dr Shaw’s eyes, “Would you like to talk about them?”

 

_‘No, but I really should…’_

 

Yang didn’t respond verbally, but instead opted to nod, feeling very unlike her usual self at the moment.

 

“Alright then, tell me about these dreams.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is the fic I've hinted at in Let Me Love You.
> 
> I'll say right now, I haven't forgotten it, I'm just stuck on it and I have ideas for this fic currently. Speaking of which, how'd you guys like it? I'm sure it's confusing, it's intentional, just have faith in me that all will be explained, I promise. 
> 
> Leave any feedback in the comments, I'd love to hear it. Until then, catch you on the flip side.


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